Dipping a toe in the water.

It was the very thought of seeing her again that had caused the latest in a run of crises. He, of course, hadn't made the connection. That had been another. One whose wisdom and peace he often ignored and took for ignorance respectively. Only after this other had explained the obvious to him did he feel strong enough to inhabit thoughts of her.

Their last meeting had been as battle-weary acquaintances, her smile worn as a wound. The only blood tie between them being that of hers, spattered across walls and the creased, perpetually reeking shirt the man wore.